Saving Near
by ASoldiersLamb
Summary: Epic. Matt miraculously survived the shooting and five years later, a prophecy made by an old friend is coming true. This will effect the entire world. Is the world ready for a new dictator of this magnitude? Is Matt alone in trying to stop them?... No.
1. Kidnapped

No matter how hard he tried, he never could get away from the suede and white rabbit fur apparel. However, it was just too damn cold in Winchester at the time for him to be in his normal garb. He'd been really lucky to find a designer in L.A. who would make a personalized trench coat from suede and white rabbit fur.

He'd left the west costal designer very confused and with a good chunk of money. The coat itself was expensive as hell. Oh well, at least he wasn't privy to the cold that crystallized his breath as he made his way to the memorial.

The stone was simple. It wasn't a tombstone, for there was no body under it. The body was gone by the time the fire department had gotten to it, and it was probably ashes in the wind by then. On the stone was a statement made by Mello before he left the orphanage. It was one of the last things he'd said to Matt before leaving.

Peace is a Lie

Passion is the Answer

Through Passion I gain Strength

Through Strength I gain Victory

Through Victory my Chains are broken

Matt laughed, but it was bitter, and cold as the flakes in his hair.

"You had to go and kick it, didn't you Mel. I always thought of you as a man who would live forever. Guess that didn't work out so well, did it? We used to think we were indestructible once. That the world had never seen anything like the two of us. We were wrong, Mello. I think you knew we were wrong. I think that when you left, our perspective of the world slipped into reality. You saw that you could not always predict a person's moves as well as Oasis. That scar of yours must have been a lot more sentimental that it seemed. It taught you what you always refused to learn. People put in desperate situations will do desperate and often unpredictable things. Hell, I still can't believe I have to turn twenty-nine, or that I'm lucky enough to be.

"We planned on changing the world once, too. You, Sahara and I. We were going to bring about a revolution to shake the ages." He smirked and lit a cigarette, as the snow got heavier. The smoke swirled in pointlessly fascinating trails through the snowy sky, and Matt remained silent, watching it.

The pencil touched the paper ever so lightly, and the bony hand began sketching, Line after line in quick succession, the image began to come to life. The face, the hair, the eyes.

Lucius peered over the young woman's shoulder as she sketched, her eyes closed off from the world. People said she was a psychic, or a prophet. Lucius didn't believe in that shit, but this girl made him wonder. Her first predictions were eerily accurate.

Suddenly, she stopped. The sketch was of a teenage boy with fluffy light hair, and a blasé expression. The girl snatched the fresh cigarette from his lips and crushed it out against the flesh by his eye. He cried out and stumbled back from the girl. She glared at him through milky eyes.

"That is a disgusting habit that I will not allow in my presence," She said in Italian to the man, "Do it again, and it will be your eye I burn. The boy is Near. I have no other name for you, but this should be an accurate depiction of him. Find him, and bring him back here. Nothing will work if he is at liberty." Lucius took the sketch and left, his baldhead shining from the dim light of the room.

A woman entered, long dark hair swept up in a high ponytail on her head.

"Well?" She asked in Italian. The artist turned to face the newcomer.

"My men are not incompetent, Sahara. They will find him."

"Near is smart, Oasis." Oasis smirked lightly.

"But I am smarter, not the smartest from our little group, but definitely smarter than Near.

Another card fluttered to the floor, tossed from pale fingers onto a floor strewn with playing cards.

"L, I really don't think that the gang problems in Ireland have a center solution. Gangs have always been a problem all over the world, including Ireland. I don't think that there is anything significant with the gang wars in Ireland." Roger's voice came through the screen dubbed with a gothic W. Near continued throwing cards on the floor until the last one had landed in silence, then began to counter the statement as he gathered them back up.

"Watari, I understand your point, but you must understand that I have considered that outcome already, and have ruled it out. There is significance in the gang wars of Ireland. There are more than brutes with weapons out there. I think there is an allied force out there that I could use to my advantage in the upcoming turmoil." Roger could tell that Near's mind was on another topic, but knew that he would explain in time. However, the statement about upcoming turmoil was a fact he must be informed of.

"Upcoming turmoil, L?"

"Yes. When I was at school, a young girl with a gift for seeing events to come warned myself and several others that a third world war would come to arise in our lifetimes and that it would be like no other. There would be no allies between countries and all would fight against each other. Bio-terrorism will arise and the greatest country will fall along with others, to the power of a successful dictator. I have mentally prepared myself for the battle I will face in this war, but I have not prepared well for a team. I had originally planned on finding the Wammy children that I grew up with. Now that the two girls are missing, and Mello and Matt are dead, it seems I need a new team."

A crash.

Heavy footfalls.

The slight gasp of a young man.

A deck of cards hitting the floor.

Silence.

He took a long drag and let out the ghost of his addiction with a heavy sigh.

"You Catholic bastard. You still had a lot to learn about people, about life." He pulled a single rose out of his coat, momentarily risking the freezing temperatures and letting the chill dust his flesh. He dropped the rose and the black ribbon tied to it fluttered as it plunged downward. "Merry Christmas, fucker."

Matt got to his feet, adjusted the guns on his belt, pulled the cigarette from his lips, and dropped it to the snow as he turned his back on the memorial of his friend. He crushed the butt into the snow with his boot as he left the Wammy campus.

After a moment, his phone began vibrating in his pocket. It was an unknown number, but he answered anyway.

"Yes?"

"Matt?" A panicked elderly voice came over the line. Matt stopped in his tracks.

"Roger." He responded in disbelief.

"Near is gone." Then the line went dead. Matt stared at the phone as his icy breath gusted away with a fresh wind.

"Fuck." He snapped the phone shut and walked back to his bike.


	2. North One

Matt stepped into the Lobby of the predictably five star Hotel. People from countries all over the world and speaking every major language mulled around the lobby. Not for the first time in his life, Matt found himself completely unaware of what to do. He stood at the edge of the lobby, pushing the buttons of his lengthily coat through their designated holes, attempting to hide the fact that he was armed to the teeth with weapons.

A loud ringing made him jump. The other people in the lobby didn't even notice it. Predictably, he'd only been startled because it was the phone right next to him on the empty concierge's desk. He looked around to see who was coming to get it, but no one moved. Matt trusted his instinct, and gingerly picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Twelve. Four one three. Don't take the elevator." The line went dead and the aggravatingly long monotonic beep drilled into his headache. Normally, Mello was the one who dealt with the cloaks and daggers of mind games. Matt was there to do the physical labor. He was the metal man of the dealings in the past. Even when they were too young to be dealing with crime syndicates, they still had their system in check, and transactions were common.

Matt moved to the staircase and began climbing. It was a good thing the people at Wammy's house were persistent with what they taught each child to be. If Matt had not been raised to do what he did, climbing twelve flights of stairs would kill him.

"Prime Minister Okami, thank you for allowing the audience." Sahara, as a master of languages, communicated as a median between Oasis and the Prime Minister of Japan.

"Yes, of course. What is it?" Replied Okami. Oasis responded in the original Italian.

"I ask for a reunion of the powers of Europe and Asia. As an Italian representative, I only wish to reestablish the allied forces of the greater region. Allow my associate and I to aid you in gathering a conference here in Japan, and I can promise you a high place of power in the new union of The Greater Continents." Sahara translated this to Okami, who looked pleased but a bit skeptical.

"How is it that Japan is part of the Greater Continents if we are merely an Island in the Pacific?" He asked. Once again, the message was passed through Sahara to Oasis.

"Europe and Asia are to be united in this. If Japan is part of Asia, than clearly, you will have your place. If you agree to this, Japan's representation in International affairs will be greatly expanded." Okami looked very pleased.

"Very well. We will hold a conference of Europe and Asia here, and hopefully have a peaceful union forged. Welcome Diane Torcelli and Kelly Stately, establishers of the Union of Greater continents."

"Oasis, I don't think it was the best idea to give them our real names. This is where, not so long ago, Kira reigned from." Sahara said as she unbraided the long straight hair she'd had almost all her life as the two sat in her stateroom.

"It really isn't a problem, Sahara. Kira was eliminated. We already know that from Near. I doubt that there is another one and even if there was, the person that feels they must get rid of us would be smart enough to realize that two such as we, would not give our real names." Sahara laughed lightly.

"Speaking of Near, have you gotten any more information from him?" Oasis sighed.

"Nothing. He won't talk no matter what they do to him. They have locked him in solitary confinement, interrogated him for days on end without sleep, they have even tried starving him. He says nothing, literally. I knew Near would not cooperate well though. It's his character, or rather, lack of one. He has really angered Lucius and his team. It would not surprise me if they have resorted too violence, though I doubt it will work. They can, of course, do much worse than Mello did, but Near never reacted to Mello's beatings at Wammy's. I have told them, though, that they are not permitted under any circumstances to kill him or damage his mental faculties." Sahara just stared at her blind friend.

"You and Near used to be so close, Oasis, like best friends. Why would you do this to him so heartlessly now?" This hit home for Oasis.

"Near would not have to suffer at all if he would only cooperate with us. Now that he's L, though, we cannot exactly recruit him to work with us. He freelances for the greater good and face it, Sahara, to the world and Near, what we are doing is not the greater good."

"True, very true." Sahara walked out of the room and down the dark hall, her Indian pajamas hardly making a sound as she moved. That was, after all, what she was trained for. This entire heist was her line of work. Conniving and cheating to get to the top. She was trained to work as a sort of Metal Man for a superior intellect, but Sahara was not sworn to Oasis, and had no intentions of being loyal to her. Being around Mello so much in her earlier years helped her greatly in building a strong and worthy mind. Now, she was going to use that to her advantage. Oasis had once warned that World War Three would be started and ended by the greatest dictator in history, and she planned on being that very dictator.

"What the hell will it take to get you to talk, boy?!" Shouted the bald man, a cigarette crushed between his teeth and his nose inches from the silent boy's head. His hair was white as snow as was his apparel right down to the soft white socks. The recent hours of beating, however, had splattered his pure appearance with youthful carnage. Through this, though, Near remained unchanged as he had through the entire beating.

"Goddamn you!" The interrogator screeched, his cigarette falling from his mouth as he uppercut Near in the jaw and threw his head hard against the brick wall of the catacomb hide out. Sheer pain bolted through Near's head like violent lightning and he let out a cry that had been suppressed through his onslaught. Lucius grinned at this and pulled Near up off the bloody stone floor by the hair. From minimal distance, he threw Near's head against the wall again. This, once again produced a response both physically and emotionally. Blood began staining the snowy locks of the silent seventeen year old. He continued, knowing that he was close to getting the answers that Oasis wanted.

Matt rapped lightly on the oak door with his leather-gloved knuckles. As soon as he did so, the door was opened a fraction. An eye peered through, and then the door was pulled open fully. Roger stood there, beaming slightly at Matt.

"Come in." He moved to allow Matt inside, and then closed the door almost immediately after he'd crossed the threshold.

"A bit strict on security, eh, Roger?" Matt said as he walked in, and then stopped in his tracks as he rounded the corner into the sitting room and saw two small boys seated at two computers. He turned to Roger and gestured at the two. Roger nodded and replied,

"L's successors." Matt stood frozen for a moment.

"It's… It's almost as if you already think Near is dead." After his comment, Matt stood rigid and rounded fully on Roger. "Is he dead, Roger?" Roger shrugged and shook his head sorrowfully.

"I don't know what happened to L. That's why I brought his successors in. I was hoping that they could figure out what happened to him. I think they have, and I wanted to have you work with them to bring him back." He moved to the two boys. They had thick, long, dark, wavy hair framing chiseled faces, dark brown eyes, and heavy eyebrows.

"This is North," he touched one on the shoulder, "and this is One." They looked Russian to Matt, but he wasn't sure until North spoke. The thick full accent of his English gave it away.

:"We found a deck of cards on the floor where L was taken from. If we were kidnapped, we'd leave any clue we could. Naturally, we assumed that his clue was left in the cards."

"So?" Matt asked, sitting on the sofa next to the twins.

"We think his is somewhere in Italy." One responded, raking his fingers through his dark hair.

"Gee, that really narrows it down." Matt said sarcastically. Both twins glared at him.

"Actually, it does," One continued through gritted teeth, "If we can find all of the flights to Italy within the first week of his kidnapping and search the passenger lists, we might have a good lead. To get him on the plane, they would have had to have not only an alias for him, but all of those who came for him."

"So," North furthered, "If we check all flights a week prior to and a week after L's kidnapping, than we just might find our predecessor's alias." Matt sighed heavily and threw his back against the sofa. He dropped his head back and looked at the upside down Roger behind the sofa.

"It's like sitting with Near and Mello again, only without the threats. I'm going to need a lot of Tylenol, coffee, cigarettes, and sleep to keep up with this one." Roger smiled and hurried off to fetch the requested purchasable items, and Matt walked to the balcony, stepped outside into the falling snow, and lit a cigarette. He took the first long drag and let the smoke heave out in a great sigh.

"Mel, you'd probably already be right on the kidnappers' Asses by now." He gave a frosty laugh and paused to take another drag on the cigarette. "You'd probably already have me risking my fucking life for whatever plan you had in mind. I hate how easy it is to follow you, but I guess I have no regrets. Life would have been really boring without you around to get me killed. This time, though, you aren't around to steal my girl in the end." He threw the butt to the ground twelve stories below and leaned against the railing, staring at the sun setting.

"God, I miss her." He stayed there for god knows how long, then turned back to the room and found haven from the black cold of the night.


End file.
